She again...

She can be anything that you want her to be...

A perfect lover...jealous of all the girls you talk to...scolding you if you don't have proper meals...doing everything she can, to make you feel special...she is a perfect lover.

She can be the cutest sister one can dream of...sharing fights and laughter and vodka at times...giving you informations on prohibited topics with a wink...singing with you and smiling...a smile you can die for.

An one-of-a-kind friend...you simply can't imagine what she can do and what she can't.

As a daughter she is the best you can hope for...sticking by you in all your decisions...respecting you..loving you for whatever you are...whatever you say or do...she is as normal as any other kid just way more loving than any of them.

She is good...she is bad...
she is everything that's a tad bit sad... [;)]
She is the reason to be happy...her words can make you cry...
She is a whole new world in herself...a world where all your dreams lie.




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to my better-half :)

So what if I am not pretty,
So what if I am not hot.
So what if I can't make feel sexy,
So what if I don't give you the come on.
So what if I am not liked so much by your lot,
So what if I am not as that smart.

You should have heard me singing Joan Baez,
The light in my eyes would have blinded out yours.

BEGINNING-II

Starting a new life..sounds easy,doesn't it?
Almost as easy as changing school bags.Just take out the books and put them inside the new bag and you are done.

OHO! Don't forget to check the side pockets because ultimately all the important stuff are left in there---like that extra pen,almost torn notepad,one or two crumpled Rs.10 note and similar apparently unimportant stuff which later becomes the most important.

This starting-a-new-life thing is just the same.We take care of only those things which come across as the main thing---the reason of starting new life. But the side pockets of the previous life go unnoticed. And that is exactly where things go wrong. The side pockets nowever unimportant they might seem should always be checked or else ou'll be left with voids rather empty pockets in your life.

Beginnings -I

BREAKING NEWS

Since nobody apart from three people, namely THIS, THAT and OTHER, follow this blog, i am going to extremely impolite, not-so-decent and outrageously obvious.
Keeping in mind that they had already grown their wings, though they were people who tried to clip them from time to time, they just kept growing back (damn!!), it is now time for them to fly. Fly and reach out not to the stars or the moon but, to their dreams.

This is it. This is the new beginning.

And on behalf of THIS and THAT, I, THIS congratulate all of you out in that world that people say is 'big and bad', because now you will be joined by two people who will do things that have never been done before. Two other people , just two other people, making their place in the world, in their very own way!!!

Units ands Measurements

How long is 'too long'? How is 'too short'?
How do you measure time?
Hours?
Minutes?
Seconds?
Shouldn’t time be measured in moments? In events? In memories?
Memories that you remember…moments that broke your heart or events that you cherish...events that lasted way too long like the family function with all those old n artificial aunties (artificial hair…artificial teeth…and even their gossips are also artificial… aaaarggghhh!!) or the moments that lasted way too short like the Dumdum to Kalighat metro ride with that pink salwar-kameez-wali by your side.

Shouldn’t time be measured in the memory of the echoing laughter of your younger sister when you’d tickle her?Shouldn’t time be measured in the smile that crosses your face at the very thought?Shouldn’t it be measured in the helplessness that you felt when you saw your mother having a bad headache and were old enough to realize her pain? The fact that you can actually do nothing about it but to just stand at the door and watch your father sitting with her head in his lap and a frown on his face---wouldn’t it be right to measure the beats of your scared little heart as time?

The first blankness that engulfed you after being announced as the winner of some silly competition which meant the world for you…the numbness that you felt when India lost the World cup finals…the crazy Bhashan dance on Dashomi…the fear on the night before the results…the cycle ride that ended in an accident…the sinking feeling when your crush went ahead and proposed to your best friend and she (that bitch!) accepted…the effort that went into making that surprise cake or that unknown bird cooing away on a very lonely afternoon---isn’t this time?

Then who (the hell) says time doesn’t come back. It is the only thing in this (freaking) world that is yours…completely and totally yours…coming back to you…whenever you want…at your very first call…over and over again.

Let her be,
She hasn't hurt you.
Don't kill her.
Don't trample her beneath your feet.
Don't turn her to ashes between your finger.

All she does,
Is to come down with silent vengence.
Falling on noses, resting on eyelashes.
As soft as your lover's skin
a life of pristine beauty.

Let her live,she'll give you joy.
Let her breathe.
For those few minutes,
She just wants to live.
Oh please! Please let the snowflake live.

When you were busy....

Have you ever heard the dew drops falling on leaves?
A very rare sound to hear but if you get to hear it on a cold January night you’ll know why I’m writing this post.

You are busy with something…engrossed in some stupid work may be and you hear this first few drops and suddenly you feel like coming out of a trance and you’re relaxed. Your mind lets go of all the tiring thoughts, releases you of your duties and responsibilities and you just listen to that tip…tip…tip…feeling yourself as the dew, being lowered from leaf to leaf with every single drop and you feel as if you are back home---to the gentleness of your mother’s care, the depth of her love, the feeling of languor in her arms and the wetness of her kiss. The sound has an atonal melody to it which releases you of all the atavistic ways of life.

Your eyes gets closed by themselves but you can feel the surrounding with every breath you take---the chilly air, the calmness, the soft tip-tip through the penetrating silence and you can feel yourself glow with bliss. Through the velvety darkness you can almost visualize the sparkling drop of dew; soaking your senses and leaving a minty refreshment spreading like venom through every capillary, every nerve of your body making you burst out in bloom waking you up from your sleep like a new-born flower bud.

And somewhere inside, you know that the world is, after all, not such a bad place to live in.

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By the way Happy New Year readers…from you know…This and That and a few others may be :)